


(I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night) And now I see daylight

by kjstark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Fluff, THIS IS REALLY THE FLUFFIEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN IN MY WHOLE LIFE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjstark/pseuds/kjstark
Summary: So, the thing was that: Bucky doesn't like getting called James. James is impersonal, is distant— it's cold.The only person that managed to make it warm and caring was his mother, and he had long since lost her.So, he makes everyone call him 'Bucky', or 'Buck', or 'Barnes'— or in Stark's case whatever pop culture reference he thought of that week.But never James.He just didn't like it.Until Rhodey said it.'Cause that was something else.





	(I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night) And now I see daylight

**Author's Note:**

> So, I listend to Taylor Swift's cheesy, pretty new album 'Lover' & this is what happened. Title's from her last song on the album "Daylight"

Winifred decided her son's name was gonna be James on the fourth month of her pregnancy.

James had a nice ring to it; it was a strong name, it was a special name.

James was one of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus, one of the first to follow him; it had been the name of five of the country's presidents. It was also the name of one of her favorite writers.

_"Bright cap and streamers,_  
_He sings in the hollow:_  
_Come follow, come follow,_  
_All you that love._  
_Leave dreams to the dreamers_  
_That will not after,_  
_That song and laughter_  
_Do nothing move._  
_With ribbons streaming_  
_He sings the bolder;_  
_In troop at his shoulder_  
_The wild bees hum._  
_And the time of dreaming_  
_Dreams is over —_  
_As lover to lover,_  
_Sweetheart, I come."_

She read out loud James Joyce's words and sighed and smiled, rolling a hand through her growing belly.

Yes, James would be. And she'd let George pick the middle name if he was not pleased.

  
"Young Buck," his father had called him before he could even talk, but James had looked at him with pretty eyelashes and an open mouth.

George had a mustache his son didn't like.

~o~

"Leave him alone!" he yelled and as he ran towards the poor kid lying on the floor with a bleeding nose and a black eye. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Four vicious guys landed their eyes on him then and he swallowed and squared, planting his feet just like his father taught him.

When the first one was near enough, he drew his arm back and then forth with all his mustered strength and landed a nice hook. He nearly smiled at himself proud but the guy's friends quickly caught up to him.

He took two blows like a man and was ready for the third when he heard clanking. It was the blond kid hitting the other guy that was about to come towards him with a trash can lid. Hard.

The kid broke the guy's forehead and he started bleeding and that's when the two young men looked at each other still.

And decided that running away was the best course of action.

They barely made it to the 44th Street in Hell's Kitchen when he noticed the guy falling splat on the floor.

He jogged back to him and checked, the kid was pale and out of breath and his eyes were closed but his chest was rising up and down with each shaky breath he drew. "Do you need help?" he asked.

The kid waved his hand around, enough of a response.

He looked around themselves and saw no sign of their chasers, so he knelt down to give the kid a minute.

It was almost starting to get dark when the kid finally opened his eyes again, having regained his breathing — as shaky as it was. "Thanks," was the first thing he said to him, still a little suffocated.

He nodded and smiled and offered his hand for the kid to stand.

"What's your name?" he asked, once the kid was up, standing.

The kid dusted off the knees of his pants and glared at the blood on his shirt. "Steve," he answered, after running a hand through his hair. "Yours?"

"James. But you can call me 'Buck'," he offered, with a smile.

~o~

"Buuuuck, Buck— Bucky, Buck," Steve echoed in an off-tune song.

They're sitting on the floor by Buck's bed and they've been drinking from his father's cabinet and they're both too young to drink and too drunk to care.

Steve's dad passed away two days ago.

"Bucky sounds like I'm some sort'f labradoodle," he muses, but he like's it. It's like Buck but better.

He can imagine all the pretty girls in school calling him that.

Steve was laughing quietly next to him about his joke, probably imagining him as a dog.

"Then Buck sounds like— like, you're off for college and have ties with the Mob," Steve said, between laughs.

Buck considered that for a moment, then realized, as usual, that Steve was right.

"I'm gonna call you Bucky from now on," Steve added, looking at his hands, holding the bottle, suddenly looking softer. Like he had two days ago when they heard the news.

"I'm fine with that," Bucky had replied.

~o~

"Your name is James— Buchanan Barnes," the man had said, with a prayer on his tongue.

And he knew he was right, deep in his head. But he wasn't ready to accept that.

"Shut up!" he yelled back, threw a punch, regained the upper hand.

Up until this man dragged everything out. Pulled it right out of him like a damn wire, like an untangled string. Just sitting there, ready to be free.

Like he was now.

~o~

"Sergeant Barnes was the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country," he hears the voice from the museum and reads the information about himself.

Well, his past self.

Whoever this man with his face was.

Whoever this man with his memories was.

'James Buchanan Barnes', it reads. But there's nothing right about that.

~o~

'James is in the top 10 list of most popular names in England since at least 1974,' he read on the internet one day. He can list down at least a hundred other relevant 'James' in history or fiction, James is Hebrew, it has two meanings.

James is a footnote on his file. An officiality.

James is as foreign to him as he was to people here, sitting in a park in Rumania.

~o~

"Your first name is James?" the doctor asked and Bucky felt like he was being purposely bothered.

He sighed and looked down. Yes, his first name was James.

Baby boy, James.

"Do you know where you are, James?" the doctor asked another question.

But Bucky wasn't really listening to his words, only to his name.

It didn't feel right.

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he said and it was the first thing that felt okay in his life for a long time.

~o~

So, the thing was that: Bucky doesn't like getting called James. James is impersonal, is distant— it's cold.

The only person that managed to make it warm and caring was his mother, and he had long since lost her.

So, he makes everyone call him 'Bucky', or 'Buck', or 'Barnes'— or in Stark's case whatever pop culture reference he thought of that week.

But never James.

He just didn't like it.

* * *

  
Until _he_ said it.

'Cause that was something else.

~o~

"James, deck down!" Rhodey had yelled into the comms and Bucky had followed swiftly, if only a little startled at his own name — and Rhodey's — and dodged the shots of this week's dumb goons.

He looked back at Rhodey once the threats were gone and grinned when Rhodey lifted his faceplate up just so he could see him smile.

So he had a thing for Rhodey. Maybe, so.

It's not his fault they ran into each other every day for ten months straight during their psych evals after the team got back together.

It's not his fault that they basked in the happiness of their best friends getting married, standing across each other at the altar and exchanging a shared soft look as the most important guys on their lives finally vowed to love each other 'til death. And maybe also swapped dirt on all the stupid stunts Steve and Tony had pulled through all their lives.

It's not his fault that Rhodey is bright sun and honesty and coffee beans in a fresh autumn afternoon.

The only thing that's his fault, probably, is that for all the times they've talked, Bucky's never mentioned how he feels about his first name.

And maybe Rhodey got bored of 'Barnes', too.

~o~

The second time he says it, Bucky can't mask the turmoil of feelings he gets— well, at least not from Steve he can't.

"James, can you pass me the coffee?" Rhodey asked, casually, not even looking at him, a mug in his hand.

Bucky stiffens at the name but his ears don't ring unpleasantly. Instead, his stomach squirms and it takes him a long while to realize that's actually a good thing, if only a little embarrassing.

He moves to hand Rhodey the coffee jar and smiles helplessly back when Rhodey does.

"Thank you," he muttered and Bucky feels really fucking great about himself.

Bucky watches Rhodey leave absent-mindedly, and Steve watches him attentively. When he's gone, Bucky returns to his best friend, holding the newspaper in his hand, a smile shining brighter than the golden ring on his finger.

"What?" Bucky asked because he was dumb enough not to leave that hanging in the air. Or just outright doubting Steve's capacity to read him through like the Politics section.

"When are you going to tell him it's okay for him to call you 'Bucky'?" Steve asked, slightly amused.

"Next time," he said. Like a liar.

~o~

"Alright, I'm just gonna be out with it— just, yeah. James," Rhodey had called for him, after doing a little shake of his shoulders as if to warm up for some physical activity. Bucky paid no attention to the fact that the USAF shirt was tight on him.

Or well, he bullshitted himself about it.

Bucky raised his head at the call and locked eyes with Rhodey, his breath a little caught up in his throat.

"Would you like to go out with me— like, on a date?" Rhodey asked in a hesitant voice that made him look far more shorter than he actually was. It was cute.

And when Bucky said "yes" without blinking Rhodey smiled like a little boy.

So, he forgets what he was supposed to say about him and his nickname.

~o~

"Hey, Jim!" The guy behind the counter at the sandwich place greeted Rhodey, offering his hand above the counter for Rhodey to click with his. They do a special handshake and Bucky smiles and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Hey, man. Did you save me the seats?" Rhodey asked, pointing with his thumb to his back, where the tables are.

The place is crowded. It's almost Thanksgiving so everyone's running towards the first closed space they find in the snowy streets of New York.

"Sure. Rosy!" the guy shouted for a young girl with purple hair to show them the way.

Bucky catches Rhodey talking in a lower voice to his friend. "Don't make me look bad, Bob," he said and the Bob scoffed.

"I feel insulted you even have to say that to me," he said and then turned to Bucky to give him a nod, as if introductory. "I'm Bob, I own the place—"

"But he also cooks, 'cause he's the best," Rhodey interrupted, arching his eyebrow.

Bucky smiled widely and realized he was supposed to say his name. "Bucky," he said, waving his flesh hand.

Rhodey gave him second-lasting stare before they sat on their tables.

"What will the gentlemen eat?" the girl asked politely.

Bucky looked at Rhodey like he looked at his parents when he was six.

"Give us the special— wait, do you like pickles?" Rhodey asked him. Bucky nodded blinking slowly. "Great, then, that," he told the girl with a smile. "You're gonna try the best sandwiches in this entire city, even the whole country, only topped by a place in Philly," he told him, excitedly.

Bucky smiled, trusting Rhodey's taste. "Can I ask something?" he said, had been holding it in his tongue since they went in. Rhodey loosened his scarf a little and did a thing with his eyebrows for Bucky to go ahead. "'Jim'?" he asked, frowning.

Rhodey was Rhodey.

Always.

He'd even heard Stark's kids call him Colonel Rhodey more than once— and Scott had followed along, too.

Rhodey chuckled on his end and looked at the table. "Bob is my cousin. My whole family calls me Jim. 'Rhodey' was more of Tony's personal nickname that somehow ended up being adopted by everyone else that wasn't my family," he explained.

Bucky took that in slowly nodding, then he bent his head to the side. "So, no one calls you James?" he asked.

Then Rhodey's eyes turned soft and he let out a breath, making a face. "Not— for a long time, no," he answered.

"Why not?" Bucky asked.

Rhodey let out a little chuckle before he laid back on his chair and went: "'Cause my life doesn't really leave much room for me to date. And the last time I had a partner, was a long time ago."

So, Bucky got the message.

He pretty much just dug his own grave with this.

"Can I ask _you_ something now?" Rhodey tried. Because Rhodey was smart and really, Bucky set this for himself.

Bucky nodded but he was a little annoyed at himself; why would he decide to start this conversation when there are a hundred other things they can talk about?

"How come everyone gets to call you 'Bucky' but not me?" Rhodey asked.

And, yeah, that was the question.

'I like the way my name sounds on your mouth,' is way too fucking much for Bucky to say aloud.

Even if it is true.

"I— I've been waiting to tell you," Bucky started bullshitting his way out. "But it never seemed the right time," he added.

'Probably 'cause it wasn't right, you dingus', he told himself.

Bucky was okay for everyone else but not Rhodey.

Bucky for Rhodey felt like such a waste when he can make James sound like that.

"Sam said you don't like getting called 'James'," Rhodey added and seriously, how many moments in his lifetime is Bucky gonna spend contemplating how to cause Sam fucking Wilson pain?

The man had no idea how to stay in his fucking lane.

"I do prefer Bucky but—," Bucky trailed, moving one shoulder up, bracing himself for what he was about to add: "But James is good, too."

Now, _that_ was a first.

* * *

They reached Bucky's dorm room and Bucky had been laughing about Rhodey and his story about a general and a palace.

But then Rhodey grabbed a messy lock of his hair and placed it behind his ear and before Bucky could register all of it, something in his brain fucking short-circuited and he was closing the distance between them and pulling Rhodey's mouth to his.

Because this was his first kiss in decades and damn it if he wasn't gonna have some agency in it.

He let got of Rhodey a little when he noticed he was unresponsive, but as soon as Bucky opened his eyes all he saw was Rhodey with a goofy smile.

"So, that okay?" he asked, his hands open on both sides of Rhodey's face.

Rhodey let out a breathy laugh before he pushed Bucky a little towards his bedroom door for his own kiss.  
This one was better, it lasted much longer and Rhodey dug his fingers in the hair behind his neck when Bucky sucked on his tongue.

But then Rhodey pulled back and just, outright ruined him when he said: "Goodnight, James," right on Bucky's lips.

'James is good, too', he had said but that was a lie.

James was fucking _awesome_ when Rhodey said it inches away from his face.

~o~

They started dating then. And Bucky was still embarrassed about the whole 'my name on your lips' thing.

But Rhodey started calling him 'Bucky' of the sudden, and Bucky feared something wasn't alright.

Until Rhodey gave him a soft kiss in the morning and said: "I'll see you later, James," before he left for a meeting with Congress.

Then Bucky realized it: Rhodey called him James like he'd call him 'love' or 'babe' or any other sweet thing couples use.

Suddenly, Bucky felt very proud he'd been saving 'James' for Rhodey this whole time.

~o~

Bucky thought he was getting better about it but oh, boy, had he been wrong.

It was their ten-month anniversary date-night when it happened. That thing they had been dancing around for months but shit if he was desperate to get there.

But then lying here with Rhodey beneath him, kissing him softly, all he wants is to savor the moment.

Dwell in on the fact that after ages of pain and torture and suffering here he was, whole and alive. Happy.

He was being touched with the uttermost care, kissed by soft lips. He was being wanted as if he was brand-new and unscarred.

Rhodey had managed to caress and love every corner of him that Bucky swore he would hate. Rhodey had proven him wrong. 

And Bucky got to see Rhodey's eyes go blank and his hips tremble and his hand holding on to Bucky's hair like a lifeline.

He got to hear 'James' coming out of his mouth in the most precious, panting way. Over, and over again.

Bucky let himself fall on Rhodey's chest as they both came down from their sweet, sweet rush.

"I love you, James," Bucky said at Rhodey's pecks, because he felt like being funny.

Rhodey laughed and the whole sound vibrated through his ribcage right into Bucky's ear. Bucky wanted to bottle that sound for a rainy Monday.

"I love you, too, James," Rhodey said, only if a little redundant.

Because Bucky already knew by then, that every time Rhodey called him 'James', he meant 'I love you'.

* * *

Bucky doesn't like getting called James.

Until Rhodey says it one day in a church and he's crying and Steve's crying, too, and Sam is documenting the whole thing in his phone and Bucky's heart is completely full.

~o~

"Do you know what our names mean?" Bucky asked one night after he put Ettie to bed.

Rhodey raised his head from his book and frowned. "Uh— strong, pure?" he wondered.

Bucky let out a laugh and shook his head, then got under the covers next to him. Rhodey readjusted himself to lay his arm on the bed's headboard and hold his book on his other hand.

"No. It means 'supporter' and— the 'one who follows'," Bucky shared what he read years ago. Back when he was trying to find who he was.

"So," Rhodey trailed, closing his book and putting it on his lap. "What does that mean?" he muttered, turning to Bucky with a grin on his face.

"I guess it means we'll follow each other anywhere," Bucky said, placing his left hand on Rhodey's cheek. It was never cold to him and his warm-blooded body.

"And we'll support each other no matter what," Rhodey added, in an asking tone, playful one. But full of love, all the same.

* * *

Bucky doesn't like getting called James.

  
At least not until it's by the right one.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I've gotten my buckyrhodey fix -- time to go back to that Soulmates!AU.


End file.
